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Array
(
[sid] => 173136
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Salty Wounds
[time] => 2012-06-23 11:56:11
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => I sit watching the white people enjoying their morning rituals, Smiles spread across the faces, like the wind spreads across the wild grassed habitual. There was a time before anyone cared about time, The sun rose from the great spirit and set below the wooden tree line. My mind ponders on what the American Indians sacrificed and lost We only remember by what others teach, how cowardice tossed. I visualize the children playing in the great prairies at ease, Before the White man arrived with their guilders and disease. When one could walk and walk and walk where no human had set before. One could look up into the night sky, see the heavens that now the blind white ignores. They are pressed to believe, what has happened is God's will, but I find it hard to believe that any higher power would be fulfilled. How can we raise our children to respect mother earth, Before an natural occurrence and nature's rebirth? One first must become the teacher before mentoring the student If I hear, I forget, I see, I remember, I do and I understand the moment. Take the time to visualize the weather hardened young warrior, do you see? Now visualize the warmth of the salty tear running from aged saddened eyes, gaze into his heart that is true. The difference to make a difference is in the reflection, the image is that of you! "Bless the American Indian who never asked for prosecution, our grandfathers called them savages because they lived for today and never allowed much time to be spent in tomorrow. We wiped out millions of people to just mere thousands.So who really are the Savages? ' [comments] => 1 [counter] => 153 [topic] => 21 [informant] => Recyclebin [notes] => Corrected spelling per request ~ Moderator_18 June 23, 2012 [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 0 [associated] => [topicname] => Lifepoems )
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